


A Crack in the Mask

by Night-Mare (Aoife)



Series: Cracks 'verse - All [2]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Assassin Yamamoto Tsuyoshi, BAMF Yamamoto Tsuyoshi, Dark fic, Estraneo being Estraneo, Flame Active Character(s), Gen, POV Yamamoto Tsuyoshi, Semi-Sentient Shigure Kintoki, Side Story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2018-10-31 18:55:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10905396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoife/pseuds/Night-Mare
Summary: Side fic toBetween the Cracks. Tsuyoshi finds that Takeshi has been taken. He wants him back, and will doanything. Including picking Shigure Kintoki back up.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Saj_te_Gyuhyall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saj_te_Gyuhyall/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Between the Cracks](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10896882) by [Night-Mare (Aoife)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoife/pseuds/Night-Mare). 



He's not ashamed to admit that Takeshi is his sanity. He's his reason that he hasn't returned to assassination after his wife's death, why he's still trying to make a go of it as a civilian; he promised her that he would keep their boy safe. And he wouldn't _be_ safe if he went back. Not with the rumours of a new Sword Emperor trying to earn his title. So he had his little restaurant, and his brilliant little Takeshi, who he kept safe, so those sleeping Flames wouldn't wake and drive him to pick up their family's sword.

Which is why he loses it, just a little, when he arrives at Takeshi's little league training session only to have the adults ask him what Takeshi had forgotten that he'd come back. He's not ashamed to say that he panicked, before he remembered how to read the area with his own Flames; in his defence, he was trying _very_ hard to be a civilian. Finding Mist traces all over the adults scares him deeply. The little girl who tugs on his sleeve startles him a little bit, but he crouches down and -

"Take-kun was scared, Mr Yamamoto. But the adults said he had to go with the man in the suit, and the man had a handkerchief that he covered Take-kun's mouth with and then he picked him up and no-one said anything!" She burst into tears, and he found himself trying to sooth the little girl. He ends up resorting to just a little of his Flame, and is very careful to hand her to her mother. But she was definitely telling the truth as she'd seen it, and her version of events definitely matched the Flame traces.

With her safely handed to her Mama, he follows those Flame traces. He might have been quicker off the mark if he'd just left the little girl, but he couldn't just abandon her - and she'd described a kidnapping by a mafioso, which - Takeshi might end up traumatised and Flame Active, but they wouldn't kill him, not yet, and with the little league coaches all Mist-struck, he didn't want another family to suffer the same thing - only for it to be a pedophile to have taken her.

He'd taken the time while waiting to memorise the Mist's Flames - and to re-center himself and call up his Flames in a way he _hadn't_ since he 'retired'. They lent him a calm surety, and all he needed was Shigure Kintoki and those idiots were dead. They just hadn't realised it yet.

His family's sword positively jumps into his hands when he enters the flat above his restaurant. His Flames sing, too. It's been seven years, but preparing for a mission, to kill, is still easy. He does it almost on autopilot, prayers for his baby boy running through his head while he does so. He packs very light, his old Mist-crafted passport, dollars and gold-beads rather than bankcards and his legal identity - he'll deal with the fall out when he has Takeshi back.

When. Not if.

(It's _easy_ to follow the Mist traces. It's as if the idiots hadn't expected _anyone_ to be able to follow them. Old thought patterns, old muscle memories flow back into place, and Shigure Kintoki hums from where it's slung across his back as he weaves through traffic on a motorbike. The men who have stolen Takeshi are nothing but targets now. Those who stand in his way naught but obstacles to be sliced through.)

He stops, two hours into his journey when the Mist traces become a pool; there's something tugging at his senses, too, and he parks the bike beside the road, and hunts around. He finds the blood, puts it together with the Mist pool and winces - there's a toy thrown to one side, a little four inch high owl plushie and he tucks it inside his jacket. It's not just his little boy they have, and if it wasn't for the calmness of his Flames, he'd rage.

The Mist traces end at a quiet little airstrip. The sort that really shouldn't have jets capable of international flight landing at them, but he could see all of the signs that said a small private jet had just departed. He only has to hold Shigure Kintoki to two throats before he gets an admission to that effect, and a confirmation that the men had been talking in Italian. He curses, and tells the two men on the airstrip what they just facilitated, and leaves them to their guilt.

(He will not be surprised, later, to find out that both of them went home and killed themselves. Nor that they did the ‘proper’ way. Shigure Kintoki could be tricksy like that, and it liked Takeshi.)

Getting on an international flight is _easy_. Shigure Kintoki is behaving itself, and money talks. As does what appears to be a diplomatic passport and a smart appearance - he slides into a comfortable seat in first class and hopes that Takeshi's first transcontinental flight is not too rough. He fears it will be, considering that it was only a small jet, and his little boy had been drugged with chloroform, but all he can do is pray for now.


	2. Chapter 2

His Italian is very rusty, but it comes back quickly - especially with Shigure Kintoki awake and alert and willing to help. By the time he exits the aircraft in Italy, he can hold a conversation with the stewardess; half an hour later, as he walks through the diplomatic channel, the nuances are coming back and he can talk his way past the immigration officers.

Italy was a very different country to Japan; it's not anything immediately apparent, and the difference would be put down to cultural differences by a civilian, but Italy for various reasons had the highest density of Flame Users in the world. The number of Active Skies, with their need - and attraction - for Active Elements were part of it; as was the value the Flame Familigas placed on their members being Active. There were other hotspots, but.

Not that it mattered. It just meant that he had more fish to sort through to find the specific Mist he was now hunting, his little boy and - he touched the little owl - the other child or children that seemed to have been taken.

Shigure Kintoki hummed in agreement from its sheathe and he centred himself in his Flames again, borrowing their calmness to counter balance his anxiety about Takeshi. He still has several contacts left, and it might be costly - though not in a financial sense - but they would allow him to eliminate some of the possibilities and would reduce the likelihood of him needing to kill his way to his son. (Part of him, the cold, deep part that Shigure Kintoki swam in like a shark, would prefer to kill them all, and let their gods sort them out, but that approach would be noisy, and take time. And Takeshi might not _have_ time.)

The first of those contacts was within a conveniently short distance of the airport; or at least he was last time Tsuyoshi had set foot in Italy.

When he steps back out into warm Italian air, another half a day has passed; but he has a new Italian driver's license, and has eliminated a number of potential Familigas from his mental list - and added a few more. A surprising number of lesser families seemed to be showing signs of having access to a Mist User; there was no central registry of Flame Actives, but Lightnings and Suns were the most common, and Mists only marginally more common that Skies and Clouds. And they tended to gravitate towards Skies, seeking the stabilisation that even just being in proximity to a Sky lent their Flames. It was ... peculiar.

But it did give him a place to start, which pleased Shigure Kintoki no end, and he touched the little owl now tucked into an inside Mist-begotten pocket of his new and pristine suit, severely tailored black over a pale blue shirt.

(And there was also the promise of a good fight at some point. He had stepped into the world of the Sword Emperor, who would be no such thing without learning Shigure Soen Ryu. But not until Takeshi was _safe_. He refused to risk his son any further.)

It has been thirty-six hours since his son was stolen, and thirty-three since he found the evidence his son was not the only child taken. He is in Italy, and he is _hunting_.


	3. Chapter 3

It's twenty one days and more than one hundred fifty dead bodies since he landed in Italy. Hibari Mei-Lin had gotten in contact with him on the third day - he'd nearly killed her messenger - informing him of exactly who was missing in addition to his own son. He'd hopped from small base to larger one via bridges made of corpses, all too often finding tiny victims that made him want to kill his prey _even_ harder.

He'd taken the handful of survivors he'd found - none of them with usable Flames - to the nearest teaching hospitals to their location. He felt a little guilty about it, about abandoning them there, but he still had to find his son.

He'd started to despair of Takeshi's survival, until Mei-Lin's phone call about the three survivors that had been found so far.

And then he'd found a lead that led him here. To what _had_ been the supposedly Sealed underground compound of the Estraneo Familiga.

He eyes the small group across the pit that apparently represented the last resting place of the Estraneo warily. Two toddlers, two teens and a pre-teen; all five Flame Active, one even a Sky, which had him raising an eyebrow, though the Sky’s presence made it unlikely the group were Estraneo; all the information he’d gathered said they didn’t have their own Sky line.

And Skies that age were normally isolated on their Family estates, too valuable and too prone to forging inconvenient bonds to be allowed to wander around unsupervised. The one across the pit from him might have two Arcobaleno minding him though; that would explain the toddler Flame Actives in a way that didn't make him want to throw up again. (Shigure Kintoki could suppress his need for sleep, and even for food to a certain extent, though he knew better than to pull that trick for more than twenty four hours without eating _something_ , and several other bodily functions, but for some reason nausea wasn't one.)

He can’t be sure though. He hasn't slept properly for three weeks. Normally he'd be able to spot one of the I Prescetti Seti fairly easily, but right now, he's considering himself to be doing well to differentiate between Flame Types when the individuals in question were several hundred yards from him.

He shuts his eyes briefly, asks Shigure Kintoki a question, reaches out with overused senses and is blinded by the Sky who is doing the same; but he catches a glimpse of his son's Flames in the vivid mess that spoke of a Raging Set moving away from the pit. The confirmation that his son is alive hits him like a freight train; his knees fold from under him.

The Mist Arcobaleno - and it's _definitely_ an Arcobaleno no mistaking the strength of Flames like that - is suddenly behind him instead of across the pit, and Shigure Kintoki vibrates on his back, eager to taste even more blood - the sword was going to be _impossible_ when the world righted itself - but he knows better that to draw it on one of the Seven.

"Mou. You've cost me money, Autumn Rain.”

"If I'd accepted money to kill them, Mammon, I'd apologise for poaching from the Varia; but as I was trying to find my kidnapped _son_ -"

"Hmph. I'll be keeping the contract fees." The others stepped through the rip; and blinked when Shigure Kintoki hummed a challenge at the silver haired teen.

"You're the would be Sword Emperor?" He needed sleep. That was the only excuse he had for the fact he said that out loud. The silver haired teen looked like a cat whose fur had been brushed wrong; such a prideful Rain; his Flames territorial and possessive in a way that spoke of a still latent Cloud Secondary.

"Voooiii! Who's asking?" He could almost hear the 'shitty Rain' that the young swordsman had managed to stop himself appending to that question. His hand rose to draw Shigure Kintoki, but the Sky leant forward before he could and smacked the silver haired teen. "Voooiii. What was that for, shitty Sky?"

"Your Mist Officer greeted him by _Name_ , Squalo. Play nice." The Rain rolled his eyes. "I'm assuming from what he just said, he's a parent of one of the children that they took. Am I right?" He feels mildly annoyed at the lack of an honorific, but then the Ring on the Sky's hand catches his eye. It's old and toothachingly powerful; nowhere near as strong as the Pacifiers the two Arcobaleno wear, but coming closer than he's ever seen before and he puts that and the horse intaglio on it together with the resemblance to a Sky that had tried to lure him in when he was younger.

"I once was known as the Autumn Rain; but my name, young Cavallone, is Tsuyoshi Yamamoto. And yes; they took my son. A Mist wearing an illusion of my form stole my son from his baseball practise three and a half weeks ago."

"Voooiii. Mammon's not _my_ Mist Officer." The Arcobaleno wearing the yellow pacifier rolls his own eyes and uses a large mallet, pulled from nowhere, to hit the other Rain. "Voooiii. Call off your shitty Sun, Bucking Horse." He eyes the young Sky with interest; for him to have lured one of the I Prescetii Seti into his sphere of influence, there had to be more to him than first appeared.

The Sky had winced at the confirmation that he was trying to retrieve his son. “I found a partially obscured trail. The Flame traces suggest a new Sky and at least one and possibly two full sets with him. We were discussing the best approach to tracking them; one of the children that we found yesterday almost tore my adult Element's throat out; Romario's still recovering. Squalo and I are about as old as can be around the children rescued so far without them attempting to repeat that - it's why our little hunting party is as small as it is, much to my men's annoyance."

"Ah. From what the adults he was taken from said, my Takeshi saw through the illusion that they used, and will recognise Shigure Kintoki - and I have counter-signs for the Cloud from his mother. But I'll let you lead, Cavallone. Just don't try and keep me from my son." He touched the small owl in his pocket; the soft weight had grown comforting, and he'd find it hard to give it back to the little Mist it belonged to. "And Squalo, I will teach you Shigure Soen Ryuu on three conditions." Shigure Kintoki stopped vibrating in its sheath, though there was a taste of frustration to its subliminal hum until he reminded it that Takeshi was at stake.

The young Sky shook his head, amused. "Don't encourage him, please. He self-mutilated to figure out his last serious opponent's fighting style."

The silver haired swordsman twitched. "Voooiii!”

"What else would you call chopping off your hand, Squalo?" The amused, teasing tone of the Sky's voice, affection aimed at an Element he could tell was bonded to someone else entirely confused him somewhat.

"It worked, didn't it, shitty Horse." He snorted at the interplay between the two. There was something there - possibly something that included the young Rain's missing Sky. "Voooiii. We'll negotiate later Autumn Rain, but we should catch up with our little band of escapees and check that no one is trying to capture them," he waved a hand at the shallow pit, with its Sky Flame residue, "even if I doubt anyone other than them survived it."

"You might actually have earned that title of Strategy Captain, Squalo." The teasing tone from the Sky earns him a glare from Squalo, and the Sun Arcobaleno just rolls his eyes. The Rain still leads off though, the Sky ambling after him. They make no effort to be subtle, but instead keep up a running conversation that makes it clear that they're teenagers and not a threat. (Not that he believes the show the two of them are running, but they’re more successful than the blond pre-teen he hasn't been introduced to, who is playing with a lethally sharp knives in a way that suggests he’s Varia too.)

He's not the first one that senses the illusion; Mammon holds up a small hand, and the two teens keep babbling but their Flames spike ready. Shigure Kintoki informs him of the illusion moments later. It's been created with brute force, the signatures of four very young Mists coating it - three of which he recognises. One is his son; that makes his heart ache - their family's Mist Secondary rarely wakes without Shigure Kintoki's influence _unless_ the individual is badly traumatised. The second is Hibari-san's son and the third is the owner of the little owl in his pocket. He nods to the Arcobaleno and steps back, out of sight, before the Sun Arcobaleno instructs the Sky on how to do something tricky with his Flames.

The illusion falls, and his breath catches in his throat. There are twelve pre-teens in the little clearing, and three exhausted looking Cloudy types desperately trying to stay on their feet, and little Tsunayoshi with his son's head in his lap, and he wants to snatch Takeshi up and hug him tight, but he can see the marks of maltreatment from here, and the way the Clouds are almost vibrating with barely controlled killing intent makes him wary.

The two Arcobaleno let the young Sky with them do all the talking; and not all of it is vocal. Some of it involves the tiny Sky and the Cavallone matching their Harmonies against each other, Hibari-san's son murmuring things into the ear of the boy he'd obviously claimed as his Sky. The negotiations take some time, but they do succeed.

"Squalo, can you host them with the Varia? Your people are better equipped to defend themselves from any outbursts than mine are." The younger swordsman blinks and turns the Mist Arcobaleno; there's another non-verbal conversation and he nods firmly.

"We can; they're used to Belphegor and they've adjusted to Chikusa and Ken." Was Squalo's eventual reply. The Mist carved another of those remarkably creepy holes in reality, and two of the Mists, the eerily identical pair watched curiously. “Give me a few minutes; I just need to warn off the 'adults'." The younger swordsman takes himself through first; and the Mist Arcobaleno tilts their head at the Sky, who nods. There's a quiet conversation between them and the twins and there's two more rips and then the Arcobaleno makes a squeaking noise as they're dragged into a hug.

The little Storm that had accompanied them was talking rapidly in Italian to one of the Cloudy boys and the Sun Arcobaleno was talking to the two Suns; one of whom still looked to be in pain. Rather than healing him himself, the Sun Arcobaleno was quietly talking them both through fixing a poisoning and what to look for in the aftermath.

He wants so badly to step forward, to draw his son into a hug, but every time he starts to move Shigure Kintoki buzzes almost angrily, a warning and he leans bank against the branch of the tree he's watching from and renews the illusion he's concealed beneath; he holds his position until the children follow the little Storm through the rip; he doesn't move until the Cavallone calls up to him and there's a second rip next to the first.

The next few minutes are all a little out of sequence. Shigure Kintoki leaves his hand willingly; there's a hot shower and warm broth and cool sheets and a Mist-altered mirror beside his bed - obviously brought in while he was in the shower - showing the little pack piled up together along with the Storm that had been accompanying the Mist Officer and three other boys, and he sighs in relief.

(Tsunayoshi, the tiny Sky, had matched his Sky against the Cavallone's and found them to be in resonance. His Takeshi would be as safe as he could be, given he was traumatised into becoming Flame Active. A Sky that protective wouldn't let any of his own come to harm, and the Cavallone must have been in agreement with that for the two boys to resonate.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There have been minor tweaks to the end of the previous chapter of this fic, and the end of the current last chapter of Ganauche's fic - a tweak to the time of day markers, and Ganache _not_ having been told Tsuyoshi's name, only that he's one of the parents.

The bed in the room he was shown to was criminally comfortable after three weeks under Shigure Kintoki's goad, and once he shuts his eyes, he sleeps the sleep of the genuinely and completely exhausted. The Cavallone had wanted to try and help with the Flame exhaustion, had offered to allow him to rest in his Sky, at least temporarily, but he couldn't bring himself to accept the offer. He had a suspicion that maybe his Flames had another Sky in mind. Because they hadn't been at all interested in becoming part of the Cavallone Decimo's Harmony, which was very telling, especially given how compatible they currently were.

When he wakes back up again, finally, it’s almost eleven am according to the clock on the bedside table, and when he picks it up, the mirror is focused on Takeshi. (Based on how he feels, he probably slept the entire day away. It’s nowhere near enough sleep to undo the damage he’s allowed his weapon to do to his system, but it was a start, and he had things to attend to before he went back to sleep again.) There are more than a dozen other children he can see in the background, behind his son, some of whom he recognises from yesterday, and some of whom he doesn't. His boy has his Sky in his lap - it looked like they were in some sort of common room, watching TV - and Kami, his son’s Sky was _tiny_. He'd seen the evidence for himself that the majority of the children were Flame Active, and they were going to cause _havoc_ in any mundane area with Flames as potent as the ones that he’d felt radiating off them yesterday; it was going to take _real_ effort for anyone without Active Flames to shield them to resist giving the baby Sky his son had been forced into choosing _exactly_ what he wanted.

He watches the children greedily for another few minutes, relieved that Takeshi's safe (something he'd never thought that he'd say - or think - given the extra bodies in that room, four of whom were wearing Varia uniforms and one in what passed for a CEDEF uniform). He dearly wanted to hug his son, but that could wait, if it had to, now that he _knows_ he’s safe. Especially given what the young Cavallone Decimo had implied about his Rain Guardian nearly getting his throat ripped out by one of the earlier rescuees.

But watching the mirror wasn’t getting him any closer to being able to hug his boy and check him over. He makes himself take another shower - in the very luxurious bathroom - and dresses himself in the clean clothes that had been left on one of the chairs for him; they fit, and there's obviously a skilful Mist or two in the Cavallone's employ, judging by the lack of seams, and the built in sheath for Shigure Kintoki down his spine.He notes with amusement that his sword is elsewhere. He debates calling for it; it would come if he did, but decides against it. There was nothing in the compound that felt like a threat to him, other than the Active Lightning that one of the two - he raised an eyebrow; the young Sky he had met yesterday had definitely impressed his Family if he was wielding so much power despite his father still living - Skies in the compound was containing. There’s a folded note on the table by the door to the suite, and he follows the neatly written instructions on it down to the sunny parlour, where the young Cavallone Sky and the Active Lightning, were both waiting for him.

There was a covered tray at one of the places in the parlour, and the young Sky waved his hand at when he entered the room. “My cooks tried to put together a reasonable facsimile of a Japanese breakfast for you, Tsuyoshi. Do tell me what you think of it.” He crossed to the table, and lifted the cover cautiously, and was pleasantly surprised by what was under there - and the sentiment behind it.

He took his seat, and the Lightning raised an eyebrow at his host. He ignored the two of them, and tasted the rice, and then sampled the rest of the dishes. “My compliments to your cooks, Don Cavallone. Their seasonings are a little off, but far closer than I expected; I suspect it’s the dashi; I can provide them a better recipe, later.”

“Dino -” The Lightning tried to break in, and something the man had said before he came down had obviously annoyed his young host, because the attempt was being pointedly ignored.

“I’m not Don Cavallone _yet_ ; that’s still my father, Tsuyoshi, and I suspect my cooks would appreciate the recipe.” The Sky’s Flames lighten, a little, in pleasure at the compliment to his staff, and someone has beaten the basics of being a _very_ good Don into the teen; his praise would make it to the staff, and - he eyed the Cavallone thoughtfully - there’d be a reward for them too, if he wasn’t mistaken.

“You wear the Ring, and your Flames are absolutely _saturating_ this compound. This is your Family to command.” The Lightning made another impatient sound, and both he and the young Sky turned on the man, though he was the first to speak, the cool edge of Shigure Kintoki’s continued desire for blood seeping into his voice. “Who are you, anyway? You’re not one of Don Cavallone’s men; he wouldn’t be attempting to contain your influence on ‘his’ Family if you were.” The Sky winced; that was interesting. The teen obviously hadn’t realised he was doing so. Partially trained then; probably still under a tutor.

"Autumn Rain,” his ‘Name’ was definitely being used as an honorific in retaliation for calling the teen _Don_ Cavallone, “meet Ganache the Third; he's the current holder of the Vongola Lightning Ring. His Don has sent him to check on young Tsunayoshi, as the boy carries Vongola blood. Ganache, Autumn Rain." The Lightning _squirms_. That introduction made it quite clear that the young Sky was feeling hostile toward the Ninth, and didn’t _that_ have interesting implications …

“And what _are_ Don Vongola’s intentions towards my son and his Sky?” He wills Shigure Kintoki to come to his hand, and the sword appears, already unsheathed, the threat explicit.

“He’s one of my Sky’s two remaining, viable heirs.” His eyes flicked to the young Cavallone Sky’s face, and noted the grimace. A truth, but not the _whole_ truth, then.

“If Tsunayoshi was so important, why weren’t there watchers in Namimori?” He rubbed his temple, fighting the tension headache he could already feel forming; he needed to sleep for a week, but he couldn’t. Not yet.

The Lightning hesitated, and then yanked the Ring off his finger, and balanced it in front of him on the table, spinning it on the table like a child’s toy. “I have _no_ idea. I’ve only been his Lightning for three months, and I _hate_ it. I’m an Electric Sun, a healer, not a fucking meat shield.” The outburst came with a flare of Sun Flames that the Cavallone Sky barely managed to smother before it Activated all the unshielded electronics in the room. “He treats me as an errand boy, and barely tells me a fucking thing; about the only perk to the damn job is that I can get into the heart of the Vongola Archives with the Ring, and I’d give that up in a heartbeat for a competent Sky that actually treated me as a human being. He’s even set me up to have an irate and frustrated Cloud take her frustrations with the idiot he calls his External Advisor out on me, for Christ’s sake.”

He wasn’t quite sure how to answer that; nor was the young Cavallone from the expression on his face, and the feel of his Flames. The silence is broken by Ganache pushing his chair back and stomping over to the coffee machine on the sideboard, slipping the Ring into his pocket rather than putting it back on. “Please tell me there’s alcohol in here somewhere, Cavallone? I need a fucking drink.”

“In the cabinet.” He shakes his own head and goes back to eating the breakfast so carefully prepared for him. And it was _definitely_ the dashi that was off; either it was store-bought, or they’d used the local mushrooms rather than shiitake mushrooms to make it. The Electric Sun - he was fairly balanced, but if that was the way Ganache identified, then he’d use that designation for him - poured himself a hefty shot of alcohol and added just a _smidge_ of coffee.

“When you’re done eating, Tsuyoshi, we’ll go and see Takeshi and the others.” He’s almost tempted to push the tray away from himself, and declare that he’s done, but having been under Shigure Kintoki’s tender mercies for as long as he has, he’s starving and he needs to eat, lest he find his body cannibalizing itself. And the food really is good; he finishes it easily, and then he’s been ushered out of the front door, and into an armoured limousine; he raises an eyebrow at his host who shakes his head subtlety, and that was also interesting. It said that Dino Cavallone didn’t want the Vongola to realise he trusted Mammon of the Varia enough to use the Mist Arcobaleno’s ‘shortcuts’ to get around.


End file.
